The Swallowed Key
by aspentree11
Summary: Hermione was on a mission, a simple mission two years after her graduation, when she was caught into a sex slavery being run by ex-death eaters. Under bars as a sex slave, she finds only one to comfort her, a long-lost enemy.
1. Chapter 1

The screams above her made her cringe. The screams of rape, pain, and selling of woman made her naseous, but she had to listen. She had to know what was going on, so when it was her turn, well...Atleast she'd know it.

"Listen Lavender," Her voice was low, "You gotta hold on, alright? Harry and Ron are coming. I swear they are. They were at the office only a couple hours ago when I left." The space behind her was dark, but still, she could sense Lavender's shadow.

"Are you...Are you s-sure about that, Hermione?"

"Yes," She lied. She could see Lavender's nod, and it made her feel even worse. She didn't leave two hours ago, they've been here for two days. Lavender was going in and out of sleep because of the coming-full moon so rapidly that lying to Lavender seemed like her best chance to calm her down. Typically, werewolves changed during the Full Moon, but stress can cause it to awaken earlier. She, out of everything, didn't need to be locked up with a werewolf.

"Thank you, Hermione." Hermione's fingers clenched at the metal bars.

"For what?" She croaked.

"Taking care of me, after everything." Oh, how ignorance was bliss. Hermione hasn't been taking care of her at all, but merely feeding her the same lie over and over again. Soon though, it would be their turn. Their turn to stand in front of tens of death eaters that got away, and be sold as a s-x slave. She didn't know why in the world that the ex-death eaters were doing this. Their Lord has been gone for two years, and yet they still have found a way to not go to jail. What did they want now? Most of these wizards being sold were also being named as mudbloods, but Lavender wasn't a mudblood. For gods sakes, they should atleast let her go. She shook her head at herself. She was just going on a mission because she heard something weird going on in this warehouse, there was absolutely no reason for her to bring Lavender along. She wished it was just her here, instead of both of them. Or better yet, she wished that Ron and Harry would finally realize that she isn't in Bulgaria like she told them that she was going to straight after this mission, but yet somewhere much, much worse.

But mid-way through of the rant she had been giving herself continuously since she got here, she heard a clinking of boots coming toward her. Louder, and louder it went, and as she heard it felt like it was a painful curse hitting her. She closed her eyes, murmuring a prayer beneath her lips. She was a logical girl, not the type to truely believe in any figure that she couldn't prove, but if there was one this would be the time to believe it.

"ZABINI!" The name itself made her jump away from the rusty bars, closer into the darkness with Lavender. Did she hear that in her head? Deprived of water, food, and warmth she couldn't tell. After a long silence, she inched near the bars again cautiously.

"What?" A voice replied. So it was true - Zabini was here. She never talked to him, but she was never a fan of him. She couldn't believe it though - She didn't even know he was a death eater. He had always been categorized in that bunch because he was a Slytherin, but she didn't like discriminating.

"This...This is costly, you've got to see that," The voice was so rusty and cracked that there was no way she could be able to hear who it was, "Go home, Blaise." These words gave Blaise a laugh. His laughter rang through the dying cells, making her shiver.

"Nobody knows about this place, mate. Whose going to knock it down? I don't see anybody doing it."

"Sooner or later, they will," The cracked-boy argued.

"No," Zabini's voice turned chilled, "The Ministry doesn't care about these filthy mudbloods unless they're dead. Do you see them dead?" She coulds nearly feel the tension.

"Fine," He scuffed, "Sell them. See if it doesn't haunt you." The boy swirved on his heel. His soft, yet firm, feet faded and it wasn't until he was gone that Zabini walked all the way over to them. Hermione ran to the back and shivered next to Lavender. Maybe if they just pretended that nobody was there by sitting in the dark...But then the lock opened and Zabini stepped in.

"Lavender?" His voice rang in some sort've amused scuff, "Lavender Brown?" He saw him reach out. Her hand clamped with Lavenders.

"LAVENDER!" He striked toward them. He was about to grab her, until Hermione realized that she couldn't let him take her. She didn't know how she would deal with it - She couldn't do it. Suddenly she stood up.

"What?" She said it as raspy as she could, just like how Lavender sounded. Without even an answer, Zabini buckled a handcuff around her.

"It's your turn."


	2. Chapter 2

The halls were too dark for Zabini to possibly see her. If he saw her though, just an extra second glance, she was dead. She could feel her breath shaking. _Oh god, oh god, oh god. _What was going to happen to Lavender? What was going to happen to _her? _

Other then Zabini's tight hold on Hermione's skinny arm, he acted as if she didn't exist. She could've spat in his face, forced a struggle beyond what he could believe, and yet he wouldn't bother looking at her. It didn't matter if she fought anyways though – He was two times as broad, and three times strong. Fighting wasn't the strategy. Mind was.

She wondered now, if maybe now that she was out of the rattling prison, if she could find a way to get a message to Harry and Ron. Maybe, if hope decided to be nice to her. She shook her head. This was bad, this was really really bad.

Suddenly, he stopped.

"What?" Hermione's voice grasped sharply, "Where are we?" He didn't answer her. Instead, he stuck out his wand and tapped a thick muddy wall in front of them, three times. It eroded open, and when it came out of view, all she saw was lights. Bright, huge lights. She knew, she deep down knew, that there were people beyond them, but she couldn't tell. While she was distracted, Zabini took off her cuffs. She was about to kick him, until he twisted around her with the wand across her neck.

"Lavender Brown," Zabini said, "Nineteen years old, size three, b-cup, and skinny." Surely, somebody, even if Zabini couldn't see her face, would recognize Hermione. There was no way. Unless, these death eaters weren't the high-ranked ones. Maybe they knew who Harry was, but her? Who knows, maybe she was just some girl they heard of.

He shifted her along, to the center of the dirty, muddy underground room. What was going to happen to her?

Suddenly, there was a beep from the right side of the room. Her eyes flickered.

"One sickle." _One sickle? For her? _Surely, she was worth more than that! She felt disgusted, outraged, but then again, who were these people to think that she was worth it?

Before she could think about that one person, another person called a beep.

"35 Knuts!" Barely more. There were twenty nine knuts in a sickle. She felt like a dog, suddenly. A disgusting, unwanted dog. Why, if Ronald was here, he'd kill him.

"Three sickles!" Her eyes lowered in front of her. Well, that's better, how nice, she was tempted to scuff.

"Three and a half!" That one made her snicker. Half a sickle? _Half? _What morons!

There was a long silence after that. She could feel Zabini's wand tighten around her angrily.

"Three and a half?" He asked outloud, "Anymore?"

"One galleon!" Suddenly, there was a gasp through them all. One galleon must've been a lot to spend for her from one of these people. Well, at least someone saw her as a piece of gold.

"A galleon?" Zabini asked joyfully, "Sure my lord—

"Oh my god!" The words interrupted Zabini sharply. The joy seemed to dry out of him. Everything was silent.

"How much?" The same voice asked.

"A galleon," Zabini answered dryly.

"Twenty galleons," The man said, "If you give me h—it right now."

"You do understand, mate?" Zabini asked him, "What this is?"

"Oh yes," The voice answered, as if this was a business deal, "I understand completely. Actually, I think I'll be generous. I'll give you fifty." She felt goose bumps crawl up her skin. Nobody was going to top this. This was it. She was going to be handed over like a slave in only a moment or two.

"Deal."

Suddenly, Zabini shoved her roughly toward the crowd. Before she stepped over the lights though, he whipped a blindfold that was large enough to go over her entire face. Everything was black, she could barely breath through it. She screeched angrily, and finally tried fighting back, but that only gave her a punch in the spine which killed more than anything.

"LET ME GO!" She screamed, "I'm a part of the Ministry you bafoon! Let—Me—Go!" Finally, she didn't care if he hurt her back this time, she tried biting the closest part of him, probably his arm, and as soon as she did he pushed her off him, forcing her face-first to this disgusting ground. The blow hit hard, and she even got a mouthful of dirt in her mouth. She spat it out immediately.

"How dare you!" She started to yell, "How dare you do—

But then her blindfold was taken off. The light hit her hard, and at first she closed her eyes before opening them. She felt a cold chill in the room and she shivered.

Opening her eyes slowly, she looked in front of her, and her mouth widened.

"I'm not sure what you're trying to play, Granger, but you sure as merlin aren't Lavender Brown."

Her mouth was still open though. She couldn't believe who she was seeing.

"M—Malfoy?"


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing she should've thought of was that Draco Malfoy was in front of her. Or that Draco Malfoy was officially a part of a sex trade. Or, probably most importantly, that Draco Malfoy just bought her for more galleons then she got a year in her low-income salary. 

But instead, the only thing she could think of was, "Is that tea?" Her eyes dangled at the small-sized red paper cup in his hand. His eyes flickered at it annoyingly.

"What—No, it's—

"_Malfoy_," She pleaded, "Please." She never thought she'd be the one to beg, but she was begging on her knees. That cup was like gold.

"Granger, it's not—

"I haven't had anything to drink or eat or…or even _feel_ anything warm in days," Her lips trembled, "I know we have never been friends, but I can barely stand up straight."

"Look, it's not-

She didn't wait for permission. She bounced off her knees, snatched the red cup out of his hand, and touched it to her lips.

"FOR GODS SAKES—"

She chugged it.

At first, she was indulged by the warmness. It slivered down her throat and lit up her body like some sort've miracle-like energy.

But then, she tasted the horribly bitter after-taste. She thought she was going to be okay, until she started to feel it coming right back up. She thought she was going to throw it up, until her knees buckled beneath her and she fell flat-faced toward the ground. Her eyes drifted close.

"No, I'm serious Blaise, you have to pick this girl up—NO! OF COURSE I WOULDN'T! Look, I was just trying to get her out of there alright—

Hermione's eyes were starting to lift open. They felt so heavy. Everything felt heavy, she realized as she tried to stretch. It was like she got run over by a truck and left alone.

"…I wouldn't do that, Blaise. I know what that would mean, but I don't want her. What? You want me to keep the little – No; I wasn't going to say "mudblood", unlike you I learned from my experience. You know what? How about you just go back to where you came from, Zabini. Yeah—Yeah, I mean that."

Where was she? She lifted her head up, and moaned in pain. She couldn't see anything. Literally. All she saw was a plain-white room. No furniture, no decorations, just perfect white walls. There wasn't even a light-bulb, there was just a window raining down sunshine.

She squinted. What is this place? She didn't recognize it at the least. Not an inch. She felt her chest heave nervously.

Something was wrong…Something was very wrong…

"Well, is that what you think?" Somehow, she managed to make herself get up, though every step was horrifying. She looked behind her and saw the heaps of blankets she was laid on. No bed? Her lips formed a thin line. She eye'd the cracked-door and limped out as quietly as she could.

"Well, that's great, just great. Yeah, you know what? Maybe I'll just let her go…" It was then that she realized what woke her up. It was that cracked voice...She tried to place more together, other than just that, but it was like her mind was blank. All she could remember was that cracked voice.

The next thing she heard was a slam. She clung to the railing outside of her room and glanced down. She wasn't afraid, no, but she was curious.

Directly under her, was a blonde boy pacing in a circle. He was slurring cuss words around the room like a kid eating candy.

"Are you okay?" She asked. She saw his whole body jump. He swirved toward her. At first, he just stared at her. He seemed almost mad, but it didn't bother her how he felt. She just wanted to figure out how she got here, and why. And maybe, if she could, get out.

"Granger?" He asked her after a long awkward moment.

"Granger?" She repeated, confused.

"Oh god," He muttered, as he started to stumble back like he wasn't far enough.


	4. Chapter 4

One moment, he was below her looking at her with loathing eyes, but then the next he was suddenly next to her, ushering her down the stairs, pushing her on the couch, and glaring down at her as if she just punched his mother in the eye. She sat there numbly as he paced. She didn't know what to say - What would she think if she found some girl snooping in her home? He probably thought she was stealing. And there's no guessing why - The place was filthy rich, filled with glass chandeliers and antique furniture. His family must be powerful, not just by the money, but she could tell from the posture he stood in and the intimidating look that shadowed him. He was skinny, but he looked like a royal figure with his milky white skin, and his cloudy grey eyes that were glared under his favored blonde hair. In a way, he reminded her of a prince. A beautiful, yet dark, prince. And that was why she didn't bother spitting excuses and mumbling what had happened, because nothing _did _happen and there was no way of convincing him. She woke up here. She didn't know how she got here, or why she came, she just woke up here. That was all she knew. And, that she needed to get out.

"Are you...Are you going to call the police?" She finally managed to whisper. His head snapped toward her, and only if looks could kill...

"The _what_?" He snarled angrily.

"The po-police," Her voice wobbled, "To put me in jail." At first, he stared at her confused, until his face hardened into a prince-like expression again.

"As much as I wish you were booted as a muggle, I can't tell lies," He spat impatiently, almost too himself.

"A..._What_?" Her face flushed red. A "muggle"? What in the world was that? Was that an insult? She felt as if it was an insult, by the way he was saying it.

"FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN!" His voice screeched, making her sink into the couch, "Jesus!" Suddenly, cuss words started flying out of his mouth again as if she wasn't even there. He was crazy, she thought to herself, making up words and not calling the police! What kind've psycho was she with?

"Look," She said slowly, "How about I just leave. You obviously don't need me here-"

"And where do you think you'd go?" His voice growled sharply. She opened her mouth, about to spit the first answer that appeared in her head since it seemed like a simple question to answer, but nothing came. Her mind just went suddenly blank. Like there was a hole in her head.

"I...I..." She couldn't think of anything quick enough. He took two long strides towards her. She felt his warm breath.

"Do you ever know your name? Where you work? Who are even are at all?" He hissed. She opened her mouth again, the words were at the tip of tongue, but it was like the words evaporated before making it to her brain.

"I don't..."

"You don't know," He finished firmly, "You don't anything. Exactly." She felt the blood in her face drain away.

"Please, just let me leave-" her words were cut off by a hideous chuckle.

"But you can't, because you just had to get yourself in one big ball of s-"

"I'll call the police!" She said surly, "I'll call them right-" But the smirk on his lips told otherwise.

"There is no such thing as 'police' where you are. There is only such thing as The Ministry," He told her. She landed up on her feet, nearly knocking him down.

"Let me out, right now."

"I'll let you leave if you can tell me your name."

"Why does it matter, just let me lea-"

"Tell me your name." She was silent. She felt like a moron - she couldn't even say her own name! She threatened to make one up, but for some odd reason she knew that wouldn't help her cause. She swallowed thickly. Was this what he wanted? Domination? He obviously hated her. He obviously had something against her. But she didn't even know him. Why? _Why was she here_? How did she just wake up without a second trace?

"What do you want from me?" She whispered finally. She saw his jaw clench.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing," He hissed, his attitude shifting drastically.

"Well, what do you want me to do about that?" She sassed angrily.

"I don't know, go make you useful." Something flickered in his eyes, and she knew he didn't want her here, but for some reason he insisted on her staying. Something weird, something that almost wanted to make her stay, just to see what it was. Almost.

"Go on!" he screeched, his anger finally shrilling as if she was an old dog, "Go upstairs and be invisible as I find a way to get rid of you!" He turned on his heel, but before he left the room, she asked so soft that she was surprised he heard her "What is my name?"

He didn't turn around, but he did freeze for a moment. At first, he didn't speak, and at that moment she thought she was doomed forever without an identity, but then he said quietly, "Lavender. Lavender Brown."


End file.
